What If Words Had Guardian Angels
by Mario Milosevic
You'd hear them praying when you
pressed your ear to a printed page.
"Please keep me from the pain,"
you'd hear death say on its sighing
expelled breath, "of being deployed
in so many heart–breaking sentences."
Disease would likewise ask for absence
from so many bad news paragraphs.
"We can't take it anymore," says
cancer. "We can no longer summon
the strength we need to witness
the horrors we name," says war and
genocide, killer and body count.
Would they listen, these angels?
Would we suddenly see pages with
blank spaces where these agonized
words once dwelled? Would they get
words the help they needed from trained
professionals who could heal their
trauma? Or would the angels, invoking
the grim paradigm of the necessity of
facing even awful truths, simply bless
them with syllables of their own?
Offering their own sad words, would
they say: "You are strong. You will live.
You will see better days filled with love."